Breaking Down
by potatoes18
Summary: Sakari has been accused of several murders of familiar citizens in her village of Sunagakure. She seeks out the people who have really caused all the harm and why. She finds them, and something she had denied to exist her whole life. DeidaraxOc
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Naruto or its characters in any way, shape, or form_______________________________________________________**

She stared at the note, transfixed and unmovable. Sighing, she shoved it in her pocket, concealing it faster than it had taken to expose it. Sometimes, you have to be the strong one, you have to help your friends in time of need. You have to... or so they say. She wasn't this time. She was retired, and she couldn't waste her time on such things now. She had grown too cold from the training of being a Yama warrior. There was no turning back after all of this had unraveled. After the betrayal of her sister, ratting her out to some criminal organizations. Sakari had hardly wanted to quit. She hadn't, in fact.

She was tired of being the rock, tired of being there for everyone but having no one there for her in return. When she came across someone so rundown and fragile, afraid to help, fearing they might break, she felt broken herself, and she forget the pain that had been burning inside for months. She'd push it aside thoughtlessly to take on someone else's problems.

Why? Because that's what being an anchor is all about, for them, you're too impossibly strong and fearless to have any problems yourself. They never give you a second thought, its them they have in mind. But yet again, you banish this from your mind, and you help, painstakingly pasting all the pieces back together. And for what? Another reminder of your own pain?

That's not enough though. You can't just leave them there on shaky knees, they beg you to continue your kind practice, to do what you can. But all you can do is push them forward, to not leave them behind, or frozen in their pain in present time. You push them to a new beginning, a better start. You aren't just the anchor, you have to be the sails too. When all they want to do is stand still in time, or go back to a happier past, you must push them forwards, and have them not look back.

The only thing that leaves you with a self-satisfied triumph in the end is the large smile on their face, the one you know is genuine, as they walk away from you on their own two feet, without you to be supported by. And pride overwhelms you.

But why? Why bother doing something so selfless, something you don't get anything in return for? Because you care, you remind yourself, shameful with your treacherous and jealous thoughts.

Then, you are suddenly overcome by your own fears and problems, and you are lost in a sea of anger and frustration. You had been there for them, but they didn't offer you anything in return, nothing. You were heartbroken at this treachery, but remind yourself it is your own doing. But you stop and think, is it?

Common sense begins to seep back into you at a slow rate, and all you can do is watch in horror as your own mistakes unfold before your eyes once more, and you leave behind your problems to be dealt with later. And then you could hit yourself, soaring into your own ways of selflessness like a fly into a spider's web. And you are caught.

You are too strung up with helping them, that you cannot help yourself. Or is that really it? Perhaps it is just because you don't want to deal with your problems, so you deal with someone else's. _Now_ it isn't the selflessness that was originally implied. Guilt creeps into you as you realize you were merely using them as an excuse, but complained about your self-appointed responsibilities to only cover your facade.

Shame floods you, and you feel yourself slipping away into some unrelenting pit of ignominy. This is where self-pity comes in. You are drenched in dishonor, so you figure it can't get any worse, right? Wrong. Self-pity does come, and without its mercy as well. You are too consumed with your own idiocy of putting off everything that could have changed your course of life, you no longer have a will to live it, instead you are swallowed by it, afraid for one of the few times in your life.

And what happens when you are afraid? Why, you hide it behind a laugh, a smile. Commiseration too great to share, and so you rot in your own trap, stuck until you are strong enough to save yourself. It's hard at first, faking your movements, and you feel at fault with each lie. But it gets easier every time you tell it.

Rotting in your own lies, you begin to believe them. This is where you can no longer decipher the fine lines between truth and lie, and simply have grown into the habit of lying. It's second nature now.

_This_ is the point where you can't go back, or heal on your own. This is where you need those people to help you, to reach out to you, but they aren't there, are they? No, and if they were, in all your lies and denial, you would deny all the help you needed, though you truly needed a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold. You are stuck, timelessly in a web of your own working. Now you aren't the fly caught in the web, you are the spider.

And what do you do from here? You wait. You wait until someone as kind-hearted as you were steps in and pieces _you_ together. No, you are not the rock any more, you are the broken mirror, or the puzzle with missing pieces.

And if they don't come? Then you live off your sorrow and the sorrow of others, your heart becoming cold. What happens when it gets too cold to bear? You become your fears and you lay on the borders of living and non-living, no longer desiring life, but feeding off it, and too afraid to die like this.

Completely and utterly lost.

She snorted, scuffing her foot against the dirt. _So they want my help? After they refused to give me the refuge I needed?_ she thought.

She scoffed and continued down the streets, ignoring the chaos all around her as salesmen cried out for service and women fantasized about jewelry and the young man selling it at the stand nearby.

As she walked past, she caught someone's attention. A young woman, blond with sparkling blue-green eyes, stood apart from the crowd. Her cloak billowed around her in the slight breeze, alighting in the air to reveal her feet.

Sakari slowed down, genuinely curious at the strange pattern on the garment wrapped around her frame. Her eyes caught on the red shapes on the cloak. She couldn't look away or blink, thinking it might disappear, as if it was never there.

She had seen this sort of apparel before, when she had worked with the government, yet it was not quite common. She blinked, trying to remember where she had seen it last. Trying to be discreet about her staring, she sped up slightly, but not before her eyes made contact with the woman's.

There was something in those eyes, something suspicious. And the way her head followed Sakari as the teenager walked. The girl's pace quickened, her eyes daring to look away for only a moment, but then switching back to staring through peripheral vision.

She blinked, stopping when she was hidden efficiently behind a carriage as it trailed down the street. Sakari peered out from behind the ox pulling it as it came to a stop.

Blinking rapidly, she desperately raked her brain for anything that would guide her, swimming in confusion. The woman was gone, as if she was whisked away by the light breeze. Sweat dripped off Sakari's face under the hot desert sun, and she considered finding some place nice and cool to rest. She looked up at the sky in contempt for the weather.

Perhaps she was imagining things from her old fighting days? Or maybe her anger was causing her to see things that weren't there? She tried to find a logical explanation, but that was about all she could muster up.

Sighing, she dragged herself off the hot sand and into a local bar, hoping for a nice, cold drink. It took several large strides to get to the bar counter. She stepped confident with her alias, but awkward, feeling several pairs of eyes on her. It was rare that a woman as young as herself stepped foot in the place, filled with drunken men and the sort.

At only fifteen, it was illegal to have an alcoholic beverage, but in this case, she had a fake ID. Her card said she was twenty-three, but her short height made that hard to believe. The bartender asked for an identification card, and she handed the fake to him. He looked unsatisfied with the answer, and decided to ask for her age, card still in his hand.

"Twenty-three, you have my card, you shouldn't have to ask," she replied haughtily as she slid into an unoccupied stool, catching interest of several young men at a table not too far off. In their drunken minds, she was easy game. She snorted in contempt, rolling her eyes dramatically.

She raised an eyebrow as one approached, slumping into the stool next to her. He began talking to the young lady nonchalantly, trying desperately to strike up a conversation, but becoming truly frustrated when she proved too great a challenge with verbal jabs and prods. Soon enough, they were indulged in an argument, verbally sparring. She was laughing coldly on the inside at the idiocy of his words as compared to her ingenious reason. Narrow-minded they called her, bah, she was never such a thing.

She took a swig from the bottle that the bartender had placed in front of her on the counter, finding the taste cool and refreshing. She let out a sigh of content and satisfaction. She waved away the man that had come to speak with her, trying to savor the taste of every drop on her tongue.

The door opened once more, but she didn't bother to turn around to see who had come in. It wasn't her business, she concluded. She yawned, finishing a second bottle and giggling.

Maybe she was a little tipsy. She swore under her breath, she should have taken better care to watch out, if she had gotten reckless so easily at a minuscule moment, what might happen if the situation were more dire?

She spun on the barstool, trying to stand and finding her foot caught behind the leg of the stool. She fell to the ground with an 'oomph' and growled angrily at the laughter as it echoed through the room. Someone stuck out their hand to help her up. She scowled, craning her neck to stare up at the person.

What she saw... surprised her, to some extent, at least. The same one that made her try to scramble to her feet only to end up getting knocked over again. The man stared down at her, brown eyes sparkling with amusement. Hand rejected, he ran it through his red hair as an alternative move and pushed past Sakari to take a seat at the counter.

She pulled herself up using one of the chairs. His good-looking appearance wasn't what had shocked her. It was that design on his cloak, the same as the woman's.

She breathed heavily upon bursting out into the street. She needed a place to take cover for the moment, but she didn't want to lead any unwelcome guests towards her hiding place.

She ran a hand through her own hair, mind searching desperately for a place safe to go. She concluded being in public was the safest thing, that or staying with some of the more elite warriors in the village, but that would make her seem cowardly.

Figuring she could lose them, Sakari weaved in and out of the streets, finding it to work most efficiently in the marketplace. The vast amount of people swallowed her into the crowd, she smirked as she was enveloped in the bunch, well hidden.

Now all she had to do was maneuver from here. She grabbed the note that had been written to her, ducking behind a rug that was strung over an adobe arch. It hid her well, keeping a nice portion of light out, but letting just enough in.

Swiftly turning towards a wall and placing the note against the hard surface, she scrawled on the back of the note after crossing out what had already been written.

She had chosen this place because it was familiar to her, as she had come here often, or as often as she could, while in her younger teen years. Being a Yama warrior had meant little rest and even less time to oneself.

She took an audible breath through her mouth noisily, remembering something utterly painful from her childhood. She looked down absently at her hand as it raced up and down the paper, smudging the ink with it, considering she was left-handed. Shaking her head frantically to clear the evil images creeping up on her, she whistled a few musical notes, taking a deep breath.

She bit her thumb to draw just enough blood, smearing it on the wall. She muttered the summon. There was a small white poof and a ruffle of feathers. She smiled and turned to see a beautiful bird flying lowly around the domed room.

Sakari whistled, holding out her hand. The bird, a messenger hawk, landed gracefully on her outstretched arm. She attached the note to its leg holster, making sure that the holster was tied on nice and tight so the message would not fall out.

Satisfied, she raised her hand, stepping back against the wall and watching the bird take flight, escaping from the small building through the only exit. She sighed, leaning against the wall and trailing down it into a sitting position. Now all there was to do was wait.

She drunkenly stood, remembering something, using the wall to support her. There was a bathroom around here, if you knew where to look. She scrambled to the far wall, the only wall with stones instead of adobe. It was next to another home, only that one was stone, which is why the one wall was different from the others.

Her hands searched feebly around the stones, feeling for something familiar only to those that had been in before. Finally, hand tracing the underside of a smaller stone, she shot chakra through her finger into a small opening.

There was a creaking sound, but the noise was filtered out by the ruckus in the market place. The stones along the wall began to move backwards, fitting more closely together to reveal a short passageway. Sakari stepped through, sending another chakra stream through a different opening to close the 'gate' as she called it.

After the entrance closed off, she was encased in darkness, the last of the dim light sealed off by the stones. She continued on down the hall, left hand feeling for something along the wall. She knew where it should be, but it didn't seem to be there. She frowned, cursing under her breath, trying to form an idea in her head.

Though it was basic technique it was helpful, she concluded, focusing chakra to her hand once more, only this time in the form of light. Now, with the slightest light, she began to move more quickly before coming to the end of the hallway.

She cursed silently, she must have passed it. Turning back, she stumbled over something that hadn't been there before. She groaned, feeling saliva spreading over an exposed area of skin on her arm. She laughed suddenly, running her hands through the mud-brown fur. "You must be hungry," She finally realized, and stood. "Come on, Doro, let's get you something to eat."


	2. Chapter 2

She strode to a small opening in the stones, sucking in her stomach to go through. Inside, she breathed a sigh of relief. No one taller, or rounder, could have made their way through the opening, well, besides Tsuyoi. She and her older friend had put a jutsu on the wall to only allow their forms passage, well, them and Doro, who managed to get into whatever room he so much as pleased.

The said dog trailed behind obediently, his tail wagging in overly-excited motions. Sakari patted him on the head and grabbed a knife and a can of dog food. Pulling a plate out and setting it on the floor, she emptied the contents of the can onto the circular shape, hands shaking all the while. Exhausted, she threw myself back in the chair to wait for the arrival of her friend.

The darkness soothed her eyes, leaving them to glint red in the light of the lone candle, set ablaze on the stone table. She closed her eyes wearily, head hurting worse than ever before. She rubbed her temples gently, leaning back in the chair and resting for moment.

A loud screeching sound jolted her awake, and she realized she had fallen asleep. She sprung from the chair to meet the messenger hawk, extending her arm towards it as it swooped through the entrance. It obediently perched on her hand, and her thumb latched onto its talons.

She held out the other hand expectantly. He held out his other leg, the one not under her hold, and presented another piece of paper. She untied it hastily, letting go of the bird. He flew around the room several times, looking for something of interest, until settling down to bicker with Doro. Sakari hushed the two and read the note.

_Be there as soon as I can, Saka. 15 minutes._

What looked to be blood littered the paper. Her brows creased in worry, was he all right?

Sighing, she settled down in the chair and awaited his arrival. After waiting for nearly half an hour, she began to worry. Pacing the room, she hoped he hadn't been... I shuddered at the thought. No, he couldn't have been. He was Tsuyoi.

She sucked in her gut and made her way back through the entrance, commanding the two animals to stay. They obeyed with reluctance, but listened nonetheless. She slid back through the hall, pulling a stone out of the wall. The stones moved away and sunk into place.

Hurrying through it, she realized hours must have passed. The sun was below the horizon and stars were gleaming in the nightsky. She chewed on her lip. How long ago had she received the message exactly?

She slid under the rug that hung over the arch and out onto the streets, where the amount of people had greatly dispersed and only a few stragglers were left, kicking up sand in the middle of the street.

Without much thought, she sprinted to Tsuyoi's house. Sakari fumbled for her keys, trying to stay as quiet and invisible as possible. Finding the key she wanted, a copy for Tsuyoi's home, she pressed it into the keyhole and prayed he hadn't changed the locks.

The key didn't turn. Her stomach dropped and a string of curses flew from her mouth without restraint. She turned and slid her back down the door, head hanging. Was he all right? The question ran through her head over and over again. Tsuyoi had been the only one she could turn to for a long time, if he was gone... she mentally slapped herself.

Standing up, she reached for a kunai at a holster, hidden under her shirt. Bandages kept it tied just above her hips, but the kunai knives were secured so they wouldn't be seen or stab her with a sudden movement. She ran it down the length of the door, trying to press it further into the crease where she knew the lock was located. Once it was in place, she pulled out a pick, she had been using these for years.

She stuck the pick in the lock and prayed the door would unlock. There was a click, the gears squeaked into place. She was in. She took a deep breath and snatched her kunai from the crease of the door as it swung open on its hinges.

Sakari entered the house gingerly, stepping over several objects that had spilt over the floor. "Tsuyoi!" she called up the stairs. There was no answer. She crept up the stairway, careful to not squeak on one of the most wobbly, old steps.

The house was old and plain and messy, much like her own apartment, only larger. She recalled spending countless nights here with Tsuyoi and his friends, laughing and playing cards. She felt a gut-wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach. Would they have any more of those nights...?

She heard something behind her and whirled around to face the direction of the noise. Instead, she found herself facing the mirror on the wall. She froze. How she hated that mirror! It made you look like a complete different person when you looked at it. Tsuyoi had once explained to her that it was what was called a 'Blessed Mirror'. He said that when you looked into it, you saw yourself as you really were, not with the make-up and the mask. When Sakari looked into it, she didn't even see herself, and she hated that.

She closed her eyes briefly, not desiring to stare into it any longer, and continued up the stairs. She reached his bedroom door, and tried to open it. She sighed in exasperation, the door was locked. She took a deep breath and backed up a few paces, for a running start. Inhaling deeply once more, she ran forward, the sound of her footfalls engulfed by the carpeted floor.

She braced herself, expecting to hit the door. Unfortunately, it had opened seconds before I crashed into someone oddly familiar.

Sakari grunted as she hit the floor, falling on top of Tsuyoi. He pushed her off and pulled her close to him so her ear was millimeters away from his lips. He whispered something. She couldn't understand what it was. He pushed her away from him and pointed to the window, not too far from my left. "Go," he commanded feebly, his voice cracking.

She stared, burn marks scorched his clothing and room. A bird sat on another window, on the other side of the room. Confusion, along with other things, mixed together. "Tsuyo-"

He pushed her so hard in desperation she fell out the window, falling into the Suna street. Was he trying to kill her?! She looked up at his face in the window, and realized she had been baited. It happened too quick, she didn't even know it _had_ happened.

A word was yelled as she was still in the air, not even a second later, an explosion had just been set off. She gasped, the wind knocked out of her as she hit the sand. Her eyes widened with shock. Everything had happened so quickly. She was paralyzed on the ground, shaken with astonishment, splinters and nails and even larger pieces of wood rained over her. She pushed the boards away and pulled herself from the debris.

Realization wouldn't hit until later, until then, she was lost in thought. Guilt donned on her. Someone _was_ trying to get to her. The explosion had gone off almost as soon as I had entered the room, which then lead to her being pushed out the window.

All these thoughts made their way through Sakari's head in milliseconds. Dust bloomed everywhere, and she was lost in a fit of coughs, enveloped by the smoke. Tsuyoi! She sprang to my feet, a burn mark visible on her leg. She ran to where the house would be, not two meters from her. She searched the rubble, screaming his name between coughs.

Her shoe had flown from her foot as she fell out the window, caught on the window sill, and she saw it discarded in a pile of rubbled. I flinched, stepping on something sharp. _The mirror_... her foot was cut and bloody, a large opening stretching from the toes to her heel. Sakari hissed in pain, awash in guilt.

If she hadn't sent the message to him, Tsuyoi would never have died.

She pushed the thought and guilt away at the moment, scolding herself for implying such a thing. He probably escaped through another window after me, he probably landed on his feet and dove under cover, he probably- she stopped herself, knowing she was just providing these to make herself feel assured, even though she knew full well that her best friend was indeed dead, and his body no longer existed, due to the explosion. What hadn't been destroyed in the detonation was overcome with flames.

She picked up the pieces of the shattered mirror, her hands numb as they cut them. Sakari ignored the feeling of glass poking into her flesh and fell to her knees, rusted metal nails digging into her legs as she did so.

She laid down in the rubble, hacking and coughing. She hugged the broken mirror to her chest, her hand reached behind the glass, prying off the last of the reflecting glass off the backboard. She pulled a picture of herself and Tsuyoi out from it. The very same that was on her nightstand at her apartment.

She clung to these now priceless items, ignoring the physical pain and neglecting the mental strain at the moment. She had closed her eyes, allowing tears to spill down the side of her face and drip onto the photograph. She stored them away, in her holster, to keep them as safe as she could.

There was movement behind the smoke, and she buried herself beneath the rubble and cluttered boards, hiding. Voices began to talk, she hiccuped, but they didn't hear me. Her vision was blurry due to the smoke, She shifted her position, but froze, feeling something at the edge of her fingers.

She sat up, eyes snapping open. She shoved the charcoal boards in a pile next to her. There, underneath them and a layer of ash, was Tsuyoi, face-down in the dirt.

Sakari choked, but ignored the feeling to cry, she wiped the remaining tears, smearing ash from the burnt wood over her face. Cuts stung as sweat and tears mixed with the blood, but she ignored it.

She turned Tsuyoi over, staring into his eyes. They were opened with shock. Sakari knew, as a Yama warrior, that death was only a part of life, and you get over it. But at the time, that was too much to deal with right now.

Pain contorted his face, his corpse charcoaled and bloodied. His face was blackened from the ash and the residue of the burning boards. She felt a surge of something left to do, to spare him indignity. She hoisted his body up into her arms, though he more than likely weighed more than Sakari ever would, she found the strength to carry him out of the debris.

She fell over next to his body, staring at him, her face halfway in the sand. She blinked, eyes half-lidded and exhausted from the strain of trying to hold onto consciousness. One last task... she slid a hand over his face, his eyelids closed and his face softened, the muscles letting go of the strain as she ran a soothing hand over his face.

She half-smiled. At least there was a body, and there would be a proper funeral. She closed her eyes, head on Tsuyoi's chest.


	3. Chapter 3

"Tenka, Sakari."

She looked up, recognizing the voice. "Kazekage-sama," She acknowledged, staring straight into his sea-blue eyes. "You wanted to see me?"

Gaara stared at her, unblinking, then replied. "Yes, take a seat."

"I prefer to stand, thank you."

He gave her a quizzical look, but ignored the comment. "I trust you know why I called you here then?"

"Not particularly," she said lazily.

He leaned forward in his desk, straightening some files. He handed her a file labeled _Murders_. She took it, raising an eyebrow at the label, and flipped it open. She narrowed my eyes over the people in the file, shinobi and civilians alike were listed, two pictures of each. What she found most disturbing were the pictures of them in death. Most were marked with burns and others had what looked like poison dripping from open wounds and the corners of their eyes and mouths. She frowned. "What's all this about?" she asked.

Realization hit her automatically as she picked up a picture of someone she knew well. _Tsuyoi_... She replaced the photograph and pulled out another. This person was also familiar. A young girl, maybe eight, was lying up against a wall, a blade through her back, poison leaking from the empty spine in the blade. The wound was nothing seriously, but the toxicants were deadly.

The girl in the picture was one of the people, out of several, Sakari could identify. And then, taking a closer look, she noticed she not only knew a few of them, but all. Some were badly injured or burned that she could barely see who they were. And, in another sick realization, she noticed there were some pictures, ones of the dead, missing.

"You know why you're here now, I take it."

I nodded. "Who did this?"

The Kazekage shrugged, staring out the window at the bright blue sky over the dull city of Sunagakure. "That's why I called on you... We believe it was... someone you might know. Or perhaps-"

"I didn't do it, if that's what you're leading on to."

He looked at her, bewildered at her outburst and angry she had dared to interrupt him. After a while, his features softened and the anger was replaced with sternness. "I have no way of knowin-"

"Why would I kill anyone, especially Tsuyoi, I'm retired now, Gaara," she spat, venom dripping from my enraged words.

"Look, all I know is that you were in contact with each of the victims before their deaths and you were found at the place where Iryoku, Tsuyoi was found dead. And all the victims look like they were killed by the same person. And frankly, you're renowned for you work with explosions, weaponry, _and_ poison. Is there anything that you would like to add?"

She stared into on of the photos of a particularly badly burned person. She narrowed her eyes in concentration, ignoring Gaara. He stood to see what had caught her attention, but she turned away from him as he stood. He sat back down, drumming his fingers on the desk impatiently.

She squinted a while longer, trying to figure out where I had seen something like that. There was a bird, poised above the dead body of the man.

"How many explosions were there for this case?" she asked, showing the Kazekage the file. He leaned over his desk to see it.

"An estimated three, why?"

"Where were they done, precisely. Or, more directly, when?" Her eyes scanned through the file, looking for more help on the topic.

"I'm not sure, Tenka."

"If that's all, Kazekage-sama, I'm leaving." She threw the file down onto his desk, several photographs falling out and slipping off the desk. Sand retrieved them, depositing them inside the folder.

She turned and began to make her way to the door, but a wall of sand came up between her and her destination. Sakari growled angrily.

"That's not it. Tenka, I have one last mission for you. You won't like it one bit, but that's how it has to be. I'm sending you to Iwa to work with the new recruits from Konoha. I'm sure you are aware of the tension between the two countries, and, true to our alliance, we are sending in some of our shinobi to aid Konoha. Is that understood?"

Sakari growled. "I'm retired, Gaara. That means I don't work any more. Not as a shinobi, anyhow. I quit for a reason, you know."

"A selfish one at that. I'll have my secretary give you your mission, I'm too busy at the moment. Expect to depart within a week."

There was silence as the sand crumbled to the floor, slinking away back into a few different places. So he kept sand containers all over the room, interesting. She bit back the thought, enraged.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

He was silent for a moment, papers shuffled on his desk and he put the file in a filing cabinet. That was when he looked up at her, sighing, trying to choose his words carefully. "Because, in some deformed way, I still trust you. Even after all the harm you've caused this village."

She snorted absently. _All the harm I've caused this village?_ She made sure to slam the door on her way out, and smiled as she heard some things fall off the shelves in the Kazekage's office. He muttered something barely audible, even though her ear was pressed to the door.

She left that week, as he had said. The journey would be a long one, including a list of other missions along the way. Most likely to delay her arrival and return. It was best if she was in multiple places, to hopefully lose who was tracking her. But she had a feeling that Gaara had only done this to see if the people she spent time with would die again in other places. To make sure he had the right suspect, to make sure he had his killer.

Groaning, she began packing. She was supposed to travel with a caravan until she got to Amagakure, Village Hidden in the Rain, than she would carry on alone through Kusagakure until she reached Takigakure, Village Hidden in the Waterfall, to meet with the recruits and the other trainers. The whole journey would take about two weeks at best, unless the caravan was faster than she expected, which was unlikely.

Kankuro met her at her apartment to see her off to the gate.

"Hey," he said casually, leaning against the doorframe.

"What do you want?" she snapped angrily. He frowned in disappointment and stood up from the doorway, folding his arms across his chest.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"Well, I originally came here to have my way with you in case you didn't come back, but Gaara told me to accompany you to Iwagakure, because he has business there and he wanted me to report back to him on how it went because he can't go due to a chain of meetings in Kumogakure. Satisfied?"

"Somewhat."

"So are we gonna have sex or what?"

"No."

He frowned unhappily. "You mean I came here for no reason other than to babysit until we got to Iwa. I don't think so. Otherwise it would be a complete waste of time."

"It seems it would be," she said blankly.

"Can I at least come inside?"

"No."

"Why not?" he whined like a child. Sakari cracked a smile.

"I'm packing."

"I can help," he offered, smiling.

"No thanks, I can take care of it."

He pouted. "But I'm hunnnngry!"

She raised her eyebrows at him. How childish could he get? She pulled out some money and handed it to him. "There's a ramen stand down the street, go eat."

He frowned. And gave another pout. Then he brightened up, she could almost see the lightbulb above his head. "If I give you back this money, can I fuck you?"

"Cute, but I'm no whore, Kankuro. You screwed up the first time, badly. I told you I don't do second chances, didn't I? If not, my mind must begin slipping."

He smirked. "You're still a virgin, aren't you?"

She smiled back at him, tilting her head. "Yep. And it's not changing for a while. I'll see you soon Kankuro." And she shut the door in his painted face. But could still hear him snort. She rolled her eyes, if he thought he was going to get lucky he thought wrong. Perverted little brat.

"He really does like you, you know." Gaara sat on her bed stiffly, arms crossed as she turned to continue packing. He raised his eyebrows as she shoved one article of clothing after another into a bag. A rather small bag at that, she wasn't planning on taking much.

"Yes, I know. But I'm not as easy as he thinks, and he isn't getting a second chance. He already had one and he fucked it up even more than before. If he thinks I'll just take him back like that, he's wrong. Because I already gave him two chances and he failed to support his commitment, so I'm not going to bother wasting my time with the likes of him."

Gaara shrugged. "Then you're missing out."

"How did you get in?" Sakari looked up for the first time, staring at him as she asked this question. Gaara patted the gourd on his back. She nodded. "Ah, I see." And continued to shove random objects and weapons into her bag, which held more than expected.

"You're using scrolls, aren't you?" Gaara asked as she shoved another object in. She nodded, he was perceptive. _I suppose that's why he sent his baka brother to keep tabs on me_, she thought angrily, slightly grinding her teeth together but keeping them from revealing her agitation with the Kazekage.

"You can leave now, if you please."

"I think I will, I'm very busy today and I have a da-"

"Date? You're kidding, right? I don't think you ever mentioned a woman before, Gaara. This is rather surprising, don't you think?"

"Date with the council."

"Ah, I see. Well, good luck to you then. Those must be the most boring things in life. I couldn't imagine going to one of those meeting things. Temari told em about those and she said they're really, really boring. It was nice knowing you, Gaara. Sorta."

He laughed, his eyes gleaming lightly as he shook his at her. "Yeah, I'll need the luck. This one is very important and I can't afford for it to go wrong. After that I have to-"

"Go to Kumogakure. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm sure it's just not an excuse for you to send your brother with me or anything. What's gotten into you anyway. You're all... nice right now. It's confusing. You accuse me of murder and then you try to set me up with your brother. I don't get you anymore, Gaara. You're always making excuses for things that don't need them. You could just speak your mind, y' know."

He shrugged, stretched, and stood up. "Alright then. Your apartment is messy, you really need to clean it, you have split ends and you wear no makeup, which makes you look pale, even under the heat of this sun. You're pretty, but too bold for just any guy. Most people are scared of you, and there's a rumor that you're a murderer. Although it's true."

Sakari gave him a look. "Do you really believe that Gaara? After all the years of us being friends and all? You really change your mind about me completely? Even after me and Kankuro were engaged and everything, you decide I'm a murderer. You know I don't have the heart for that."

"But you've turned cold, Sakari. Extremely cold. You retired just before all of this happened, it makes me wonder if you're working for someone else."

"So you came here to question me?"

"No, I came here to say goodbye to an old friend. I'm afraid for you."

Sakari smiled. "You silly boy, I can take care of myself. But I admit, I will miss this place, and I won't be back for a while either. Fool, at least give me a hug before I leave!"

He walked up to her, throwing his arms around her shoulders. She hugged him back, the seperated as there was a knock on the door. "Sakari!" It was Kankuro. "We have to leave now, the caravan already left and we need to catch up to them."

"Be right there." She turned to Gaara, "Tell Mari I'll miss her."

He nodded. "Of course."

He began to disintigrate into sand and disappeared completely. Sakari sighed. _I'm sorry you think so ill of me Gaara_, she thought. _Maybe I am a bit questionable._

She opened the door and locked it as she left, Kankuro was on the porch and gave her a slight smile, as if reading her thoughts. She smiled back from habit, but it was a sad smile.


	4. Chapter 4

She left that week, as he had said. The journey would be a long one, including a list of other missions along the way. Most likely to delay her arrival and return. It was best if she was in multiple places, to hopefully lose who was tracking her. But she had a feeling that Gaara had only done this to see if the people she spent time with would die again in other places. To make sure he had the right suspect, to make sure he had his killer.

Groaning, she began packing. She was supposed to travel with a caravan until she got to Amagakure, Village Hidden in the Rain, than she would carry on alone through Kusagakure until she reached Takigakure, Village Hidden in the Waterfall, to meet with the recruits and the other trainers. The whole journey would take about two weeks at best, unless the caravan was faster than she expected, which was unlikely.

Kankuro met her at her apartment to see her off to the gate.

"Hey," he said casually, leaning against the doorframe.

"What do you want?" she snapped angrily. He frowned in disappointment and stood up from the doorway, folding his arms across his chest.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"Well, I originally came here to have my way with you in case you didn't come back, but Gaara told me to accompany you to Iwagakure, because he has business there and he wanted me to report back to him on how it went because he can't go due to a chain of meetings in Kumogakure. Satisfied?"

"Somewhat."

"So are we gonna have sex or what?"

"No."

He frowned unhappily. "You mean I came here for no reason other than to babysit until we got to Iwa. I don't think so. Otherwise it would be a complete waste of time."

"It seems it would be," she said blankly.

"Can I at least come inside?"

"No."

"Why not?" he whined like a child. Sakari cracked a smile.

"I'm packing."

"I can help," he offered, smiling.

"No thanks, I can take care of it."

He pouted. "But I'm hunnnngry!"

She raised her eyebrows at him. How childish could he get? She pulled out some money and handed it to him. "There's a ramen stand down the street, go eat."

He frowned. And gave another pout. Then he brightened up, she could almost see the lightbulb above his head. "If I give you back this money, can I fuck you?"

"Cute, but I'm no whore, Kankuro. You screwed up the first time, badly. I told you I don't do second chances, didn't I? If not, my mind must begin slipping."

He smirked. "You're still a virgin, aren't you?"

She smiled back at him, tilting her head. "Yep. And it's not changing for a while. I'll see you soon Kankuro." And she shut the door in his painted face. But could still hear him snort. She rolled her eyes, if he thought he was going to get lucky he thought wrong. Perverted little brat.

"He really does like you, you know." Gaara sat on her bed stiffly, arms crossed as she turned to continue packing. He raised his eyebrows as she shoved one article of clothing after another into a bag. A rather small bag at that, she wasn't planning on taking much.

"Yes, I know. But I'm not as easy as he thinks, and he isn't getting a second chance. He already had one and he fucked it up even more than before. If he thinks I'll just take him back like that, he's wrong. Because I already gave him two chances and he failed to support his commitment, so I'm not going to bother wasting my time with the likes of him."

Gaara shrugged. "Then you're missing out."

"How did you get in?" Sakari looked up for the first time, staring at him as she asked this question. Gaara patted the gourd on his back. She nodded. "Ah, I see." And continued to shove random objects and weapons into her bag, which held more than expected.

"You're using scrolls, aren't you?" Gaara asked as she shoved another object in. She nodded, he was perceptive. _I suppose that's why he sent his baka brother to keep tabs on me_, she thought angrily, slightly grinding her teeth together but keeping them from revealing her agitation with the Kazekage.

"You can leave now, if you please."

"I think I will, I'm very busy today and I have a da-"

"Date? You're kidding, right? I don't think you ever mentioned a woman before, Gaara. This is rather surprising, don't you think?"

"Date with the council."

"Ah, I see. Well, good luck to you then. Those must be the most boring things in life. I couldn't imagine going to one of those meeting things. Temari told em about those and she said they're really, really boring. It was nice knowing you, Gaara. Sorta."

He laughed, his eyes gleaming lightly as he shook his at her. "Yeah, I'll need the luck. This one is very important and I can't afford for it to go wrong. After that I have to-"

"Go to Kumogakure. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm sure it's just not an excuse for you to send your brother with me or anything. What's gotten into you anyway. You're all... nice right now. It's confusing. You accuse me of murder and then you try to set me up with your brother. I don't get you anymore, Gaara. You're always making excuses for things that don't need them. You could just speak your mind, y' know."

He shrugged, stretched, and stood up. "Alright then. Your apartment is messy, you really need to clean it, you have split ends and you wear no makeup, which makes you look pale, even under the heat of this sun. You're pretty, but too bold for just any guy. Most people are scared of you, and there's a rumor that you're a murderer. Although it's true."

Sakari gave him a look. "Do you really believe that Gaara? After all the years of us being friends and all? You really change your mind about me completely? Even after me and Kankuro were engaged and everything, you decide I'm a murderer. You know I don't have the heart for that."

"But you've turned cold, Sakari. Extremely cold. You retired just before all of this happened, it makes me wonder if you're working for someone else."

"So you came here to question me?"

"No, I came here to say goodbye to an old friend. I'm afraid for you."

Sakari smiled. "You silly boy, I can take care of myself. But I admit, I will miss this place, and I won't be back for a while either. Fool, at least give me a hug before I leave!"

He walked up to her, throwing his arms around her shoulders. She hugged him back, the seperated as there was a knock on the door. "Sakari!" It was Kankuro. "We have to leave now, the caravan already left and we need to catch up to them."

"Be right there." She turned to Gaara, "Tell Mari I'll miss her."

He nodded with a smile. "Of course."

He began to disintigrate into sand and disappeared completely. Sakari sighed. _I'm sorry you think so ill of me Gaara_, she thought. _Maybe I am a bit questionable._

She opened the door and locked it as she left, Kankuro was on the porch and gave her a slight smile, as if reading her thoughts. She smiled back from habit, but it was a sad smile.


	5. Chapter 5

They easily caught up to the caravan, which had a slow departure as expected. Sakari sighed as she laid down in the wagon, tired and hungry. Kankuro was at the front of the caravan, talking to a few of the merchants.

Sakari stretched and stopped slowly. The caravan had stopped, were they setting up camp already?

She hopped out of the wagon, landing awkwardly and falling over. Kankuro laughed and extended his hand to help her up. She refused it, slapping it away, and pulled herself up.

"I need something to drink," she muttered. Kankuro grinned at her.

"Me too. They have some sake too, so we're in luck."

Sakari nodded happily, a grin on her face. She grabbed his hand and dragged him along the wagons to the front of the caravan. A bonfire was started and stories were being told by it. The fire that flared up from it was enormous.

Sakari sat cross-legged on the ground, laying back to look at the stars.

Nights in Suna were always cold and getting used to the temperature change was difficult for those who hadn't become accustomed to it. Some of the ninja coming back from missions would often complain about either the heat or the cold depending on where they had been stationed. The temperament of Suna was the most irregular of all of the countries. But Sakari always thought that the nights in Suna were the most beautiful. There were so many stars in the desert.

An old woman was sitting on a chair by the fire, telling stories of her time here in Suna before and now.

"It's odd. All the deaths going on now. It makes me wonder if Sunagakure is still a safe place to live. I grew up here, when it was calm and peaceful. That was before the last war. Now deceit runs through the very heart of Sunagakure. Not disturb any of you, of course."

"I heard that the Akatsuki have been about," threw in another woman.

_Akatsuki_.

"They're always stirring up trouble when things start to calm down. I believe they may be after something here in Sunagakure. Maybe the Kazekage, or maybe something of great value."

"Woman, how do you know of the Akatsuki?" Kankuro spoke up.

"Child, I've often traveled my whole life, you pick up lots of details in doing so. Why do you think when you send your people off to war they come back with more tales than they left with. Experience and gossip contribute quite a bit to wisdom, and wisdom is need for people like you, your friend there, land myself. Sakari, is it?" The old woman smiled, turning to the younger woman.

She nodded. "And yours would be?"

"Izanagi."

Sakari was silent, blinking, and deep in thought before she spoke next. "You're a Yama warrior."

"Hai that I am. Or rather, was. I retired long ago, but I still follow the practice, I still believe that there will be one who has the ancient power; one that will bring peace back to the Yama warriors, and set us free for two millennia," she said solemnly, nodding her head. "I believe they may already have set foot upon this world, before they return to their true form. It is said they are not to know it is them, but it will be revealed in time. The Yama are traveling fold, warriors yet peacemakers at the same time. They deal with great stress and dilemma. One must be particularly strong to be part of the Yama. To leave everything behind like that and keep moving. It is part of us, to wander. We feel lost without it. That is why I became part of a caravan, why I travel to sell jewelry. I hope to help the world and appease my need to keep moving from place to place. Have you ever felt the call? Telling you to leave what you have, to make something new?"

"Yeah, I have."

"Some of us never marry, never settle down. It is not our lovers' fault we leave them, we must keep moving. Love, it's an odd thing to a Yama. Like I have said, we are a wandering folk. Without that desire to run free, we are nothing; we are lost in the abyss." She smiled.

"But why, why must we keep moving?" Sakari asked.

Izanagi sighed. "We wish to be free, we feel if we go where we please we are free, although we are not. That is why we wait for the one who wields the ancient power, so we may live on our own accord instead of in the servitude of our masters. We were also born to serve, and born to be free of that servitude. We are mere servants to life, although we want to live ourselves. Some believe that the Yama are reborn, in a way. That they are born with wisdom and experience, and sometimes relive what they already did."

"Do you have those memories, of before your time?"

Kankuro stared into the fire, listening intently as the other travelers, no one hear had ever heard a Yama speak to another in such a way, one teaching the other what it already knew, but did not entirely understand. It was a strange thing, to see how involved the two were in their conversation.

"I do, child, as do you. I have a feeling, you will find something great about yourself, something that will save you. I was once an instructor in the mountains, in the ways of the Yama. I believe in it firmly, and I see you doubt, but don't worry. All is well, I know. Trust your instincts, Saka."

She nodded, her eyes glowing with anticipation. Perhaps this mission wouldn't be so bad after all?

Kankuro nudged her side and she looked up at him. He smiled down at her, a sweet and comforting smile. She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. He gently wrapped a protective arm around her, murmuring in her ear. She shifted every once and a while as she listened to the stories of the elderly, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Eventually, the adults had finished by telling some of their own tales to their children. Sakari sighed wistfully, remembering the teachings she had recieved at the temple that told the same legends as these much shorter and simpler stories. She could get used to this life, to traveling every night and listening.

The stories stopped and the others had gone to bed. Sakari opened her eyes slowly as Kankuro gently lifted her bridal style into the air. Her eyes shut again as he placed her in a wagon, on a soft bed of hay covered with a sheet. She snuggled into it once he left and swiftly discovered sleep after being sleep deprived for what seemed like years and was only weeks. She drifted into a soft, cute snore and fell into blackness.


	6. Chapter 6

She awoke in the back of the wagon. Darkness was still among the campsite, although the caravan continued. She groaned as she sat up. It had been late when she had fallen asleep, why had she woken so early?

"Kankuro?" she whispered, blinking her eyes several times to wake herself up, which she found was rather hard. She stretched with her arms to the best of her tired abilities. "Kankuro!" she yelled.

This time he popped his head around the corner of the wagon and grinned at her. "Yes, dear?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She spat at him, and his grin widened at this childish behavior.

"How long did I sleep, exactly?" she asked as she stood up and jumped out of from under the shelter of the wooden wagon.

"Good question… umm… maybe twenty hours?" he said casually, as if it was a normal thing to say, or a normal amount of time to sleep.

"You're kidding… right?" she asked, disbelief visible in her eyes, as if he couldn't hear it in her slightly wavered voice.

"Nope," he said, his painted face showing pure satisfaction with her astonishment. He crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head, waiting in anticipation for her next statement.

Silence, but only for a little while. And then her delayed, shocked cry of incredulity. "Holy fuck!" she yelled, eyes widening. Parents covered their children's ears, sending Sakari death glares as she continued in her ranting. The hurried away from her as she was screaming words unimaginable to young ones when she was swept up into a moment of frantic wonderings aloud, sharing, screaming, her thoughts to all who listened within a three and a half mile radius.

Kankuro cackled involuntarily as he saw mothers and fathers scurry their younger children away from the outbursts of his friend. He covered Sakari's mouth as she was getting to the worst part of her rant and shook his head good-naturedly. "I'm sure this sort of action comes with no appreciation from the commoners." He then removed his hand from her lips after he finished talking; his smiled undisturbed although he had lectured her in slight.

She smiled apologetically. "Sorry… that's a long time." She whistled, turning to watch wisps of sand being lifted from the dunes and swing up into the air, and watching them fall once more to settle into different places.

He laughed once more. "Hey, didn't bother me."

She offered only a one-shouldered shrug as she turned to face him. Her eyes were alighting with a memory from their childhood together. "Do you remember when we used to bury ourselves in the sand or hide under porches and jump out to scare people?" she asked, with a rather large and questionable grin on her face.

Kankuro knew that look all too well. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes and the corners of her lips were turned up into a one-sided smirk. A very impish look was visible in the creases of her eyes as well, as if she had come up with a giddy way to dominate the world involving sporks and macaroni. Which she had, but that was when they were five. She looked like that one time, when they were playing on the swings and she jumped off, a suspicious idea on her mind.

She had always been a random kid, but he never expected her to carry on in that way, holding on after their early childhood to her silly unsystematic characteristics. He couldn't help but remember her when they were growing up. So careless and laid back, she had changed so much. She was almost always serious and careful now. He knew she had seen horrible things as a Yama, and they had made her more stoic than ever before, but he knew he had never lost the childish side of her, because there was nothing that would make her forfeit that.

"Yeah, what about it?" he raised his eyebrows even as he asked her. He knew she would start playing her little tricks again, and he was hungrily anticipating this.

She shrugged; the devilish grin was still plastered onto her face. "Well… I was thinking we could crouch down and climb under the caravan and untie all of the camels, that way we could climb onto one of their backs and ride them the rest of the way!" she squealed with utter delight on her face.

"I see…" he said, nearly chuckling as she nodded her head vigorously with obvious excitement. "But why don't we just untie two camels. That way we don't have to worry about any stampede or anything," he suggested.

She sniffed. "You always ruin my fun… but fine. C'mon. We've got work to do!" she shouted, dragging him under the wagon and they began crawling as fast as they could to the front of the caravan, towards where they kept the camels on a line of rope. "We'll have to go to the very front," she whispered. "So that means we'll have to find a way to hide while sneaking up behind the camels."

"Yeah," he whispered, crawling in front of her. "I'll lead." He must have said it to make sure she didn't do anything stupid. She snorted.

"…Jerk…"

He let loose a quiet laugh as they slid up behind the camels. He turned to face here, the caravan was stopping to refill their water supplies by an oasis village. "Ready?"

She nodded excitedly. He put a hand out in front of her to keep her from going ahead.

"Three…" he began counting down. A sly grin appeared on her face.

"Two…" She began laughing now.

"…One…" They bolted from under the wagons, sprinting up to the two camels in the front. Sakari jumped off of ground to land rather gently on the camel's back. The creature turned around to stare at her, its long lashes tickling Sakari's brow as it blinked. She laughed in amusement, a happy smile on her face as she scratched its neck. "Good girl, Suzu."

Kankuro shook his head as he boosted himself up onto his own camel, cutting the lines between the two mammals.

"What are you gonna name yours, Kankuro?" Sakari turned her camel around to ask him. He shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. We only have a few more days until we reach the point where we break off with the caravan.

"How long until we get to Amegakure?" she asked tiredly, getting bored with her camel already.

"About four days now. We've been traveling for nearly a week, give or take a day," he explained lazily as he stretched on his camel, leaning back against the hump on its back for support.

She sighed, staring back in the direction of Sunagakure wistfully. She missed it already, and she wasn't even out of the desert yet.

"Hey, Saka?" Kankuro asked, sitting up suddenly and startling his camel a little, he leaned forward to get a better look at her.

"Yeah?" Her face was turned upwards towards a cool breeze that had swept over the desert slightly. Her eyes opened and her eyebrows scrunched together, awakened from her peaceful state. She frowned… odd, for a breeze to be coming from above. She spotted a far off black colored bird as it flew in front of the sun, silhouetted against her eyes.

"Why do you have that tattoo under your eye?" he inquired. She turned toward him, a quizzical look evident on her face.

"Tattoo?"

"Yeah," he jumped off his camel and landed in the sand next to her four-footed friend. He gently traced the curving line that thickened and thinned elegantly under her left eye, with odd curling tails in the far corner, as if it was made of brushstrokes instead of a carefully aligned needle.

"Oh," she said bluntly. "That's not a tattoo."

He frowned, tracing it over and over in thought. "What else is it then?" he asked, tilting his head unbeknownst to him. She laughed at his comically childish action in delight.

"It's a seal," she said, returning to her stoic self as she too jumped off her camel, Suzu.

He frowned. She continued to explain. "I've always had. Since I was a child. It's like a Five-Pronged Seal, it's to keep my chakra level down and in check, otherwise if it built up it would grow unevenly and I would be torn to pieces by my own chakra. It also keeps me from… you know. Changing back."

"Oh…" he whispered sadly, finger still under her eye. She grabbed his hand and patted it comfortingly.

"Does it hurt you?" he asked ignorantly.

She smiled at him. "No." _Only whenever I use chakra… and when I breathe, but other than that I'm fine._ She thought sadly. The chakra had begun to rip her apart long ago, and it continued to do so at a slower, more painful pace, but the seal kept her alive. Even though she felt as if it was time to go, at a young age, she had gone through more than enough to understand life was transitory, and it was also filled with pain.

"Soooo…" she said, trying to change the subject. "After we get to Amegakure, we go to Kusagakure alone and then we go to Takigakure? Or are we just skipping Kusa and cutting right through it. You know it has beautiful gardens and I wanted to see it while I was there, I figured we could stop there for two days and catch up on our strength, we have a lot of traveling left, ya know!"

"Sure, I don't see why not. I wouldn't mind a break anyway, but I have a condition," he said warningly.

"Continue," she breathed impatiently, hoping it had nothing to do with _them_. Because _they_ were over.

"I cover all the expenses." His voice had been joking, but his eyes were sparkling with seriousness.

She grinned. "Done."


	7. Chapter 7

The sun had just begun to sink below the horizon, silver lining its magnificence as it splashed an array of colors over the desert. The sky was awash with yellow-orange, tingeing into a pinkish red. Higher above this natural phenomenon, the twinklings of stars had just begun to emerge through the pale blue sky as it faded. Clouds were a rare treat this evening, shading them when the sun was particularly harsh.

Sakari had been sitting on the top of a wagon, shading her eyes with her hand as she watched the miracle taking place before her. She now hopped down from the weak but sturdy frame of the wagon's covering. She stretched; a contented smile was visible on her features.

She had always wondered about sunset and sunrise, and she had decided since the light was split up while the sun was either emerging or falling, different arrangements of colors were thrown across the sky. Naturally, they were warm colors, do to the sun's appearance, which was yellow itself, except for the sky itself. It was a fading blue, most likely due to the sun's unwillingness to lend its light to the sea, which was the source of the color.

"It's your turn to watch," Kankuro said lazily, leaning against the wagon she had jumped from. She nodded and yawned one last night. She had slept during the day to prepare for this watch. She may be paranoid, but she was also more vigilant after a good day's rest, even if nothing were to happen.

It had been two days since she had claimed her camel, Suzu. It had also been two days since a young girl, perhaps five, began chasing them as they ran around on their camels. The little girl had effectively managed to yank Sakari free of Suzu's back. Sakari had fallen to the sand; her mouth opened in a maniacal laugh as if she was a child again, caught doing something naughty, leaving Kankuro to fall off his own camel in hysterical laughter.

Sakari nodded, patting Kankuro affectionately on the cheek as she waltzed past him, practically dancing to an unheard music in the distance. She was known for that, her… bipolarity. Serious then playful and then serious once more. Kankuro figured he could never get used to it.

He shrugged, but a grin crept its way onto his lips anyway. She was a work of art, Sakari. No doubt about it.

She continued on her way to the front of the caravan, hips swaying as she hummed a song she had known since childhood, a song she enjoyed. And then she began to sing. "Some say we're better off without…knowing what life is all about. I'm sure they'll never realize the way. It's too late." (Sum-41, some say)

He tottered back towards the last wagon to talk to one of the elders who was resting under the shade of its covering. Hours passed into the night and time slipped away. If Kankuro could guess it would be around three in the morning. His turn on watch until ten. He sighed as he made his way up from the back of the caravan, which seemed to take forever, the caravan seemingly stretching out the expanse of the desert.

And then there was a loud crack that cut through the air. A massive explosion took place at the front of the caravan, screams followed in vain. Blood soaked the sand. Kankuro sprinted to the front of the line of wagons. "Sakari!" he screamed, searching for her in the mess of charred wagons and burning canvases and charcoaled bodies. Sweat was dripping from his brow and he turned up his face to the stars. A large… bird. He frowned. "Sakari!" he yelled up.

Another bomb dropped from the bird, causing more explosions, the majority missing the line of wagons. He swore, there was nothing he could do if the attack was from the air. He looked around hopelessly for some sign of Sakari, but couldn't find her. Why would she do this?

He squinted as more bombs fell from the sky. They weren't bombs, they were smaller clay birds. His frown deepened. He scanned the desert for his friend. A trail of blood was stretched across a small area of desert. He ran after it, soon finding his friend there, trying to get to the clay bird among the madness. He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, firm but comforting. "It's alright," he whispered, but his eyes burned with unmasked fury. She shook free of his grip and continued slowly towards the bird.

"I've seen this before, Kankuro," she said solidly, though he could tell in her eyes and body language she was exhausted. She keeled over to her knees, hands on her stomach as she bit her lip. She spat onto the sand, blood staining her saliva.

There had been a fight before all the chaos. Kankuro sighed and picked her up gently. "C'mon, I have to get you to the medic-"

"There are no medics, Kankuro-kun," she said softly. "This poison wasn't meant to kill me anyway. He told me that."

He dropped her on the sand roughly, eyes straining after the bird but gave up. "Who told you that, Saka?" he asked in a demanding but quiet voice.

"His-his n-name… it-it's…" she trailed off, her eyes clouding over as her head fell back against the sand. Instinctively, Kankuro felt for a pulse. At first he didn't find one, he pressed his index and middle finger into her neck. There, a slight pulse.

He picked her up, still careful with her, as if she was as fragile as a newborn kitten and as helpless as one. He carried her back to the line of the wagons that were left. He placed her on the end of the first wagon and wrapped bandages around her burn marks before her continued to take care of the others with injuries. He wasn't a good medic nin, but he was sufficient enough.

He took care of the last one before passing out on the sand, the smell of burnt bodies forever branded into his mind. And the look of Sakari, with burns and large cuts. Who would be strong enough to do that to her?


	8. Chapter 8

The remaining amount of the caravan stopped at another oasis, this own with a small village. Kankuro had left with Sakari to take her to the hospital after she didn't wake up for days. Fluids were pumped into her body and what was left of the poison was currently being removed. It was a delicate process, and the creator of this toxin had no doubt planned it to be that way.

Her breathing was shallow and her pulse was nearly unreadable. He kneeled over her bedside, breathing warm air onto her face. A nurse turned to him, a worried look on her smooth face.

"Please… leave," she whispered feebly, scared to tell him to do so. He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving his good friend's cold face. He ran a hand gently through her hair and allowed it to travel down her cheek, past her seal. He took a deep breath and exhaled it lowly, and then he turned and took large strides out of the room, his eyes were cold and hard. A nurse came to assist him to the waiting room, but he politely refused her help and continued out on his own.

Finding the exit was trouble, so he jumped out of a window in the hallway when no one was looking, otherwise they might think he had a death wish. He hit the streets with a thump and continued down the road in search of something to eat. He passed booths and stalls filled with goods like jewelry and other nonessentials.

He passed a dango stand and decided to get two and mentally noting to take Sakari there later- if there was one- she loved dango. He laughed out loud; thinking of another time when they were young and she had ordered about twenty dango sticks and ate all of them, although she had been sick for nearly a week after doing so. She had down so many pointless things as a kid.

He continued down the seemingly endless streets, in search of something to occupy his time with for several hours. He wanted to give Sakari time to rest after her operation, but his mind kept traveling back to that cold hospital room with the fluorescent lights that were unnecessarily bright. Kankuro shivered, imagining waking to such a place after being between death and life for so long. He'd have to remember to ask Sakari about how that felt, being on that thin line that he now knew existed. Before she had been poisoned, the berth between life and death seemed like such a huge gap that he felt secure in thinking he would know when he would die, but this changed everything. To teeter on the line for days, it seemed in possible. What was like, did you feel when it was like that? Was it painful?

The surgeon took out a scalpel and held it in front of his dark chocolate eyes. He made an incision into her stomach. He pumped a black substance in through her mouth, knowing that it would flush any more impurities through her system. His hand hovered above her bare stomach. It was a work of art in itself, tanned washboard abs and well developed oblique muscles, these toned muscles that had been known for reflexes past those of any other human being. He was thoroughly impressed in such an opportunity to admire such muscles. He began to apply his chakra to remove the poison. Sakari quivered under his cold touch.

Kankuro sighed, giving up as he browsed the streets in search of perhaps a weapon store or some game to keep him amused. He soon found a weapon store, not far from the hospital. It held various supplies that both he and Sakari needed, and he didn't hesitate to purchase a large amount of kunai. He also managed to pick up a rare sword, knowing Sakari was into such things, and decided to give it to her as a get-well-present.

Other than the five-minute shopping at the weapon store, which had very few items in stock due to the last shipments being lost in sandstorms and felt it unnecessary to order more most likely because of the very few shinobi who visited the quiet village, more than likely for not knowing it even existed.

It shocked him, however, how well-developed the hospital was. At first it seemed unorganized but the surgeon he spoke to proved him wrong in that factor. The surgeon was set on doing Sakari's operation and doing it right. He said he couldn't expect others to do his job for him and it would be a waste of a life if she died because of the incompetence of any other surgeon. He seemed very full of himself but Kankuro was taken to put Sakari's now delicate life in his hands, he seemed experienced enough and Kankuro learned to never challenge experience.

But his mind wouldn't stop zapping him back to that room. It wouldn't let up on seeing Sakari's lifeless, bloody form on that cold metal operating table. It felt wrong to see that, but it was how he imagined it would look when he got back to the very same hospital room.

He groaned and continued on through the streets; he spent little over five minutes browsing several jewelry booths for something for Temari (she had demanded that he got her something from his travels) and then preceded on down the streets until he found a massive crowd, huddled in front of a podium. He sniffed, seeing a ventriloquist "magically" move his puppet around the stage.

Kankuro stepped up onto the platform, reaching for a scroll on his back. He had heard little about other puppeteers, the only one he knew of currently was Akasuna no Sasori, but in this rundown town many could be for hope of getting some side cash.

"How about we have a little… fight… between out puppets," he suggested lazily. "Sound good to you?"

The ventriloquist accepted his challenge with glee in proving how well a puppeteer he was. The crowd was visibly excited and they began cheering for the fake puppeteer. Kankuro couldn't help but grin as he released Karasu from his scroll. This would be an easy battle.

With any other surgeon, the operation would have been risky. But the incision was just for show. He was pumping her with the antidote, unbeknownst to all the others in the room, besides a certain blonde feminine nurse, whose smirk was rather suspicious. This alone gave him a reason to scold, he shook his head as the blonde approached the surgical table, handing him a wet washcloth and an antiseptic that was so strong it would sting if it just did as much as to touch the skin.

Kankuro stepped off the stage, proving victorious, and the crowd cheered as they welcomed him into their ranks of viewers. Kankuro sat back and watched the rest of the performance, a confident smirk on his face as his rival stuttered through his lines that had been prepared. It became evident that he was talking for his puppet, and the crowd seemed thoroughly disappointed in the fact and began to disperse in the streets to hunt for jewelry and the like.

Kankuro's mind was now split between two different topics. One being on how well Sakari was holding up through her operation, and the other lingering on the possibility of more puppeteers.

The surgeon gently placed two more strokes vertically down her stomach before accepting what the blonde had passed to him. Blood oozed from the openings, along with the majority of the poison that was left.

"So… danna, what next?" the blonde asked, leaning over the body of the young girl, who was practically a child under the harsh light of the surgical room.

The surgeon caught the blonde's cerulean eyes as he massaged the wounds with the wet cloth. He shrugged, grabbing the antiseptic and diluting it with the water already in the cloth. He wiped over the wounds and there was a light stinging sound. The antiseptic sunk into her flesh. He pulled out some thread and a needle, delicately lacing her cuts with black ribbons.

"Now, Deidara, we wait," he said as he tapped her forehead, a slimmer of light coming from his fingers, and left the room, the latter following closely behind him.

"How long, un?" the blonde asked, the only visible eye glowing with anticipation and impatience. The redheaded 'surgeon' groaned as they strode down the hallway.

"As long as we need to."

Kankuro had left to get some food for himself before returning to the hospital to see if Sakari was all right. He opened the door, a bell ringing gently from the top of the glass, white-bordered entry. He sighed as he passed the counter, heading up the stairs and winding through halls. He sifted into a run, stopping abruptly after reaching the door to her room.

He took a deep breath and opened it. There she was on the table, lying as she had when he left. He nearly died of a heart attack and sighed with relief at the same time. He hurried up to stand beside her. He grabbed her hand, heart pounding. It nearly burst and he squeezed her hand, a little too sharply.

She sat up abruptly, clutching her stomach as she emptied it onto the floor. Vomit spilled from her lips to the tiled flooring. She keeled over, pulling her knees to her chest as she clutched the edge of the table, tilting her head so that the substance wouldn't get over her or Kankuro. She was gasping for breath between the intervals of expelling the contents in her stomach. She leaned over and spilled her stomach again for nearly two minutes. She fell back exhausted.

Kankuro placed a hand on her shoulder and she shrugged him off, shaking her head. Her mouth was agape, due to the nearly constant stream of vomit coming from her lips. Her face was pale and clammy from throwing up everything.

Kankuro sighed and sat back in a chair in the corner. A nurse came to help Sakari off the cot; she refused and jumped off by herself, toppling over as her feet touched the ground. She grunted in pain, hand pressed to the stitches on her stomach. The nurse lectured her briefly and helped walk her to a different room, one she would be spending nearly a week's time in.

Once they were there, a medic nin came to see her. The woman healed her remaining wounds, easing and soothing the burns, although she had warned that they would leave nasty scars on her arms and legs. Sakari just nodded and fell in and out of consciousness periodically.

Kankuro stayed their, mimicking her sleep patterns while reclining in a chair, this one was much more comfortable and lights weren't as harsh on the eyes as the surgical room. He found it much easier to relax here than he did there.

Hours passed while awake and asleep. He wasn't sure how many, but he didn't want to leave her side even though he knew she would be fine now. So he stayed until morning had come, and he found she was gone, the bed was unmade and the sheets were crumpled on the floor, the top cover thrown off haphazardly.

He jumped up, looking around the room for her, his eyes seeking out wherever she could be. The window was open, blowing a nice breeze in, the white curtains dancing in the sunlight. He frowned and leaned out the window.

Sakari could be seen down in the courtyard, stretching and socializing with another patient by the fountain. He smiled; at least she was enjoying herself a little. He stretched as he turned away from the window, finding he was lost as soon as he entered the hallway.

A blonde nurse stopped in front of him. Her blue eye sparkled dangerously in the bright lights. "May I help you, hmm?" she asked, her voice was low and she talked extremely quiet, Kankuro had to strain his ears to hear her.

"Yeah… uh, could you show me the exit to the building?" he asked, his exhaustion had sunk into his voice.

The nurse kindly obliged and showed him the way out. When she left him alone he had wandered out into the courtyard to sit on a bench and watch Sakari work on her exercising, chatting and grinning excitedly.

"So… do you believe me when I say I didn't do?" she asked, a glint in her eye in anticipation at his answer.

He hesitated but continued to answer her question. "_I _do," he said quietly, but looked up to meet her eyes.

"What do you mean?" her voice quivered as her words were spoken. He sighed in defeat, he wasn't sure how to break it to her.

"It will be a matter of convincing the public… and the Kazekage," he said quietly, now averting her eyes once more.

"Gaara…" she spat, anger filling her voice. "Look at me when you talk to me, Kankuro-kun!" she demanded, hate spilling into her voice even as she applied the generally loving suffix.

His head shot up to stare straight into her eyes, anger in his own glare as his orbs bore into hers. For the first time, he noticed the strangeness about them, and his glare lightened just slightly in interest. Then he remembered that voice that she spoke about Gaara in, she might as well had been insulting the whole village.

He stood up abruptly, anger in all of his movements as he stood up to Sakari. Two strides and he was directly in front of her.

She panicked, thinking he would strike her in her weakened state. She did what her instincts told her, focusing her chakra into her fingers, which had curled into the palm of her hand in a menacing fist, she slammed her hand into Kankuro's chest, sending him flying back against the fountain.

"Take it easy, Saka-chan," her surgeon commanded as he stepped from the shadows, eyes alight in amusement. "You don't want to rip out your stitches," he warned but the entertainment and satisfaction in his eyes were unmistakably clear to her. She nodded slowly, a grin creeping onto her features. The surgeon nodded with approval as she settled down on the bench in the far corner, chatting with another patient that had a broken leg.


End file.
